


Party in the Wavering Wood

by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter)



Series: Askfic Kiss Meme Requests [3]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fifth Year, M/M, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChessPargeter/pseuds/bazypitchandsimonsnow
Summary: 15 year old Simon Snow gets an invite to a party, where his longtime crush will be. Unfortunately his longtime enemy decides to make an appearance too.Based on "spin the bottle" kiss prompt





	Party in the Wavering Wood

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry this one took so long! I wrote a lot of it at 3 am, and 3 am Theo is an even shittier writer than usual. So I had to go back and redo most of it, after building up the courage to even look at my terrible handiwork. It was still fun though. Enjoy! :)

**Simon**

“‘Party in the Wavering Wood, 9pm, definitely not dry’?” Penny reads the invite like it’s a written in an alien language. She’s sitting cross legged on Baz’s bed (Crowley I hope he doesn’t notice) staring at the paper with her eyebrows all scrunched up. “Simon why are you showing me this?”

“Because I think we should go,” I say.

“You’re serious?”

‘Yeah! It could be fun...”

Penny looks up at me with a single raised eyebrow. “Is Agatha going to be there?”

I feel the blush creep up my cheeks. Of course Penny knows about my stupid crush. But it’s not stupid, really. I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with her since we met. And everyone already thinks we should be together. They can’t all be wrong. “She, uh, gave me the invite.”

“So you want to go for her?”

“No! Well, not just her. I mean... Pen, it’s the closest thing to a normal teenager thing we’ll ever get to do. We spend most of our time studying, and when we’re not doing that, we’re fighting a bloody super villain!” I look down and pick at my nails. “I’m 15 and I’ve never been to a single party. I just feel a bit, left out.”

I hear Penny sigh heavily. “Fine, I’ll go. But only to make sure you don’t mess up.”

I leap forward and hug Penelope fiercely. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

She pats my head. “Yeah yeah, get off me you big love sick lug. You owe me, y’know.”

“Of course!” I pull back plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She makes a yuck noise and shoves me off. My foot is jittering. I’m too excited and I can’t contain it. Tonight is going to be awesome!

* * *

 

We walk in the woods mostly blind. It's 11:00 (Penny needed to finish some homework). Branches crack under my feet, and I keep stepping on tiny stones. Penny has created a small fire but she can’t make it too big. Just in case someone sees. The Mage would certainly not approve of me being out here. But I don’t care. I’m going to a party, with alcohol, where the girl I like will be. I get to be normal for once.

“Where in Merlin’s name is this party supposed to be?” Penelope mutters.

I shrug with my hands in my pockets. “The invite did just say ‘wavering wood’.”

“That’s not exactly specific.”

“Hey I didn't write it.”

“Psst!”

We both freeze. The sound came from our left, but there’s nothing there. Penny leans towards me.

“Simon,” she whispers. “Did a tree just hiss at us or am I crazy?”

“Yes, or maybe we’re both crazy.”

“That’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

“Psst! Penelope, Simon, over here!”

We turn to look. There’s Gareth’s head... without a body. Just floating there in the darkness. To say ’m freaked out now would be an understatement. Penny firmly grabs my shoulder and sighs heavily.

“Well, it’s official, Si. We’ve lost it.”

Gareth’s head shakes. It’s, quite a site. “No no, you’re perfectly sane. It’s a magic bubble! Hides us, keeps the sound in and the bugs out, it’s perfect! C’mon, get in here.”

A opening appears. Now I can see Gareth’s whole body. It’s like he’s holding open a tent flap. I can hear thumping dance music and loud shouts. He gestures for us to come forward. Penny gives me a slightly strained smile.

“Allons-y, I guess.”

“And luckily that’s the one French word I know.”

Penny giggles as we enter.

I’m pretty sure the entire fifth year class is here. Everyone’s drinking and dancing and shouting. Someone has cast a spell to mimic multi coloured strobe lights in one end. It’s loud and completely insane. It’s awesome!

“Dear lord,” Penny mutters. “What a zoo. I can’t take this. I’m going to find a corner to read in.” She starts to walks away.

“Have fun, Pen!”

“You too, Simon. If you’re about to do anything stupid, find me!”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “Your lack of faith wounds me!”

Penelope flashes me a single “fuck off” gesture. I chuckle with a single head shake.

Honestly, I’m not sure _what_ to do. I’ve never done this before. I just stand there, shuffling my feet and picking at my nails. Fuck, am I nervous? I’ve faced goblins, a chimera, and every sort of dark creature that the Humdrum has sent after me. And a fucking party makes me nervous.

“Simon!” My head snaps up. Agatha is running towards me. She looks a bit flushed, and she’s holding a red plastic cup.

“Hi Agatha,” I say.

She giggles drunkenly. “You came!”

“Uh, yeah. Though I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

“Have fun, silly. C’mon, follow me.”

She grabs my wrist and hauls me forward. (How do I always end up getting dragged to places by people?) We end up at a card table filled with bottles. She pours some beer into a red cup like her’s.

“Here have some. It’s total shit but hey, what are you going to do?”

I chuckle nervously and sip some. Dear lord it’s disgusting. It burns my entire throat. My face gets all scrunched up. Agatha laughs with her head thrown back. “Not used to drinking, huh?”

“No,” I choke out.

She leans to the side a bit, looking past my shoulder. “Unlike your roommate, apparently. Man can he drink!”

My eyes widen and I swear to Christ my heart stops. “What?!”

I whip around. There he is. Tyrannus Basilton fucking Grimm-Pitch, chugging vodka straight from the bottle. Dev and Niall are standing next to him cheering him on. He finishes it off and throws a triumphant fist up. I’ve never seen him like this. Rumpled shirt untucked, hair completely dishevelled, and grinning ear to ear. For the first time since I met him, Baz Pitch is a complete fucking mess.

“Oh my god,” I whisper.

Agatha giggles, head falling onto my shoulder. (I'm in too much shock to acknowledge it.) “Crazy, right? He’s been drinking hard all night.”

Baz’s eyes meet mine. They widen and his mouth falls open. I can’t tell if he’s mad or shocked or... maybe terrified? But whatever it is quickly fades in favour of a drunken smile. He waves lazily at me with vodka in hand, wobbling until Niall steadies him. I lift a hand in reply.

I shake my head. “I can’t believe he’s here. And that he’s drunk. Can vampires even get drunk?”

“C’mon and dance with me!” Agatha (completely ignoring my very legitimate question) drags me again to the makeshift dance floor.

I can’t dance. At all. I know this very well. So I just flail about with my arms up. That’s how it works, right? Agatha moves more in time. I want to focus on her, but my attention is drawn to the unnaturally pale boy behind her that's jumping up and down. He’s laughing and smiling without abandon. Baz Pitch is never careless. He’s a calm, collected, perfect asshole. Seeing him like this just feels wrong. Yet it’s absolutely fascinating.

“Simon, you okay?”

I refocus on Agatha. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she’s frowning. “Oh, uh, sorry.”

She grabs my hand and my pulse jumps. “Hey, people are playing spin the bottle. Wanna go?”

My head is reeling. Merlin, what if I spin it and it lands on Agatha? Will I finally get to kiss her? Oh god, I don’t know how to deal with all this. So I just nod dumbly. Agatha smiles and we walk off.

We end up at a circle of people. Everyone’s passing a Smirnoff bottle around. There’s Trixie and Keris, Gareth and Rhys, even Philippa Stainton. She blushes at me. I know she has a crush on me. I just look away and sit with my head down.

Trixie places the now empty bottle in the centre. “Alright let’s-”

“Hey are you guys playing spin the bottle without me?! Ruuuuude!”

Baz literally stumbles to us. He plants himself right next me. I feel my magic prickle at his close proximity. A normal reaction to being near your worst enemy. Even if he is a total hot mess at the moment.

Cross legged, he leans his chin on his palm and stares at me. Strands of wavy black hair fall in front of his glassy grey eyes. Vodka smell stings my nose from his breath.

“Hiiii Siiiiimon,” he drawls out. He’s never called me Simon before. It feels weird but, kind of nice. Drunk giggly Baz is better than sober sneering Baz, I guess.

“Hello Baz.”

“Didn’t know yooooou’d be here.”

“Well, here I am. Guess you know now.” I chuckle nervously.

He smiles and hums at me. Crowley, never thought I’d make Baz Pitch smile. Didn’t think his face was even physically capable of the expression before tonight.

“Ugh,” Rhys whines. “Just spin the fucking bottle, Trix.”

Trixie blows a raspberry, but spins it anyway. I try to watch it with undivided attention. But Baz is making it difficult. I can feel his eyes on me. It makes my heart race and my palms get sweaty. He’s plotting against me, I know it. Drunk Baz is still Baz, and he’s always plotting my downfall. Why won’t he stop looking at me?!

“Simon!” Trixie’s voice snaps me out the trance.

“What?” I say stupidly.

“The bottle landed on you, silly.”

I refocus. She’s right, the bottle is on me. “Oh...”

“Well c’mon, Simon. You gotta kiss her. Those are the rules,” Gareth says.

Shit. Not the girl I want to be kissing. “Oh! Well, uh, but um... Keris would you be okay with that?”

Keris shrugs. “I don’t mind. Don’t think one boy will turn my girl straight.”

Trixie hums in approval, rubbing her nose against Keris’ cheek. “Never, love.”

I sigh. Crap, no way to get out of this. “Alright. If, those are the rules.”

Trixie crawls up on all fours. I gulp down all the nervousness in my throat. I move forward a titch and scrunch my eyes closed. Trixie’s lips press chastely against mine. I hear the whoops and hollers from everyone else. She feels warm, I guess. But that’s about it. There are no fireworks or butterflies. Not how I imagined kissing would be like.

Trixie pulls away with a smile. She giggles and goes back to her spot. Keris hugs her fiercely.

“Now you can say you snogged the Chosen One, darling!” she squeals

That sends Trixie into a fit of giggles, followed by some of the others. The only ones not laughing are Philippa (who’s pouting) and surprisingly Baz. His eyebrows are pulled together and he’s scowling. I’m (kinda) having fun, which must be upsetting him. Does he want me to be miserable _that_ much?

“Alright Simon,” Keris says, “your turn. Spin away, Chosen One.”

With a shaking hand, I spin the glass bottle. I watch it spin and spin and just pray to any god that will listen that it’ll land on Agatha. I want to feel the fireworks kiss, and I really think I can feel that with Agatha.

It stops... right next to me. Where Baz is sitting.

Everyone shrieks. I’m slack jawed. Merlin and Morgana, Nicks and slicks, fuck me! I have the worst luck in the world. I turn to Baz. He has a similar horrified shocked expression. But his eyes look sort of scared. Scared? Why would he be scared? He should be pissed off or disgusted. I should be terrified. _He’s_ the vampire! What’s he got to be scared about from me?!

“C’mon Simon!” Keris yells. “You know the rules!”

“Oh, but he’s- he’s a bloke!”

Keris raises an eyebrow “So? Got something against a bloke kissing another bloke?”

I shake my head violently and wave my hands. “No! No, well, he’s... he’s Baz!”

“Oh c’mon Simon!” Gareth says. “Put your stupid feud aside for just a second. Rhys and I already hear enough of your shouting through our ceiling. C’mooooon! Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Everyone joins in. Even Agatha and Philippa. (Drunk people are idiots.) They pound on the ground in sync. I turn to Baz. He’s looking at me wide eyed with his mouth open. His drunk gaze flicks down to my lips then back up to my eyes. He smiles wide, showing all his teeth.

“Well,” he slurs out, “if they insist.”

Baz grabs both sides of my face and plants a kiss square on my mouth.

They cheer again even louder. Baz’s grip is very strong (of course it is, he’s a vampire). My arms flail out, unsure what to do with them. Unlike Trixie, Baz is participating fully. He moves his lips against mine. His are colder than Trixie's but just as soft. (Maybe even more so.) He shifts his hands back to grip my hair, which shoves me closer. I can feel his tongue sloppily pushing against my closed mouth. My stomach is doing flip flops. And my head kinda feels, sparky, bursting, on fire. Like... fireworks.

Carefully, I grab his collar and cautiously open my mouth. I feel the tip of his tongue trace my teeth and I inhale sharply. If before was fireworks, then a fucking nuclear explosion goes off in my brain. It’s like going off, but in a good way. I grip his collar tighter. Baz pulls on my hair slightly, and I honest to god moan into his mouth. It feels so damn good. What am I doing?! I’m kissing a bloke, I’m kissing _Baz_!

“Whooo boys simmer down!” Keris shouts.

I pull away, still holding onto Baz. He blinks slowly. His lips are a bit pink and swollen. I guess mine must look similar. He smiles and laughs like only a drunk person could. Crowley what did we just do? I flick my eyes around the circle. Everyone looks more than uncomfortable. Agatha is taking great interest in her drink. I cough awkwardly.

“I guess, uh, we’ve both had too much to drink. I think we should go back to our room,” I say quickly.

Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement. I grab Baz’s arm and haul him up. He wobbles until I throw his arm around my shoulder. He leans his against me, head resting on mine. I start dragging him away. I think he’s snuggling against me. God what a weird night this has been.

* * *

 

Dragging Basilton Pitch is not exactly an easy task. He hit a growth spurt this summer and stands at least three inches above me now. Plus he’s heavy for such a lanky guy. It makes dragging him through a dark wooded area very difficult. Magically lowering the drawbridge isn’t too hard (Penny taught me how.) (Takes a few tries though.) I’m currently hauling the drunk git up the stairs to the top of Mummer’s House.

“C’mon Pitch, up the steps. It’s not that hard.”

“Noooo,” he whines. “Don’t wanna go.”

“Shut up, you need to sleep.”

He groans loudly. “Wanna stay with you. Want you to keep holding me.”

I stop as we hit the landing, slowly turning my head to look at him. He’s pouting like a sad puppy or something. “What on earth are you talking about? You hate me.”

He shakes his head lazily. “Nu-uh. S’pose to hate you. Don’t. You’re too pretty to hate.”

My heart is thumping again. What is he going on about? “You- You think I’m pretty?”

“Soooo pretty. All I think ‘bout. Pretty hair, and eyes, and moles. Can’t stop thinking. Makes my head go all mopsy curvy.” He chuckles at his own messed up words.

I think _my_ head is going “mopsy curvy”. All of this is hitting me like a pound of bricks. It’s a miracle I’m still upright. “Baz, you’re talking nonsense. You’re  _drunk_.”

He groans and leans his long nose into my neck. I inhale sharply. He’s so cold, but it feels nice. “Drunk cause of you. Didn’t want to think of you fer once.” His forehead falls to my shoulder. I feel another groan vibrate through me. “Should hate you. Hate me f’not hating you.”

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that. My head is spinning, along with my vision and stomach. My brain is trying to realign to this information. Baz doesn’t hate me? He can’t stop thinking about me? I mean, I can’t stop thinking about him either. But that’s because I’m scared he’s plotting against me! Or that he’s going to drink my blood! It’s not like I’m thinking about his stupid smug smile, or his perfect flawless skin, or his mesmerising grey eyes, or how his hair falls like a lazy wave in front of his face, or-

Oh. Shit.

I look down at him, drunk and dishevelled. He’s rubbing against my sweater like an affectionate cat. I swear to Merlin he’s almost purring. He doesn’t look like a villain, or a monster. Just... a boy. A stupidly handsome, obviously tortured boy, filled with so much self loathing he literally tried to drink his own feelings away. I haul him closer again.

“C’mon, Baz,” I whisper, “you need some sleep.”

He smiles up at me softly. “Okay, Simon.”

We get up the rest of the stairs and reach our room. I lead Baz to his until he literally collapses face first onto his bed. His cheek is all squished against the blanket.

“You really can’t sleep like that, Baz,” I say.

Baz moans. “Can do what I want, Snow.”

I sigh. Even completely pissed he’s still as stubborn as anything. I grab his feet and swing them around onto the mattress, then I haul him forward so his head is on the pillow. He snuggles into it. I kneel down so I can see his face. He’s smiling like he doesn’t have a care in world. Cautiously, I reach out and brush some raven hair from his closed eyes. He sighs, opening them slightly, a sliver of grey under heavy lids.

“Really not hate you, Simon,” he whispers, “think I love you...”

I don’t have time to answer that. He immediately falls asleep, snoring softly. My hand is frozen over his face. I'm surprised my body hasn't imploded by this point. All the feelings in me are fighting for dominance in my mind. Emotions old and new clash with what I thought I knew and what I know now. It's like a bubbling lava pit in volcano ready to explode and destroy everything around it. It feels like I’m about to go off, but solely in my rapidly beating heart.

I can't handle this now. So I brush my knuckles against Baz's face one last time, place the waste basket near him, and get ready for bed. When I curl in the sheets, I face Baz. I can't take my eyes off him. So that's how I fall asleep. Watching Baz Pitch, but for once, it’s not in a fearful way. It’s a mix of feelings I don’t fully understand yet. I’ll sort them out later. Not tonight. For now I just need to sleep.

* * *

 

I hear the retching long before I see it. Guess the waste basket was the right call. Baz hangs over it, black hair like a curtain around his face. I sit up slowly, bringing my knees to my chest. When Baz is done, he looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and a slight scowl.

“What are you looking at, Snow?” he growls.

I shrug. “You, obviously.”

“Well stop gawking. I’m just sick. Probably the flu.”

“More like hung over.”

He groans and falls back on his bed. “Fuck that’s right. You were at the party, weren’t you? Did you drag me up here?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t easy.”

His brow furrows in confusion. It’s an expression I’m used to seeing, but usually it appears when I say something supremely stupid, so I hate it. But thinking about it, he sorta looks, cute. “Why would you do that, Snow?”

I shrug again, burying my cheeks in my knees to hide any blush that might appear. “I don’t know. You were... doing bad. So I helped. Like I’m s’pose to. Hero and all...”

His face soft for a brief millisecond, but it quickly turns into a sneer as he faces me. It’s less intimidating than usual, considering his state of disheveledness (and what he said last night.) “Did you bang my head against every wall on the way up? Because I think my brain is trying to pound out of my skull now.”

I shake my head a bit. “No, I think that’s just from the vodka.”

“Aleister fucking Crowley.” He runs a hand over his face, pulling on his jaw. I can see pain in his eyes. Now I can’t tell if it’s from the migraine or from what he feels. “Whatever. I’m taking the shower first. Don’t try to stop me.”

He swings his long legs off the bed and stumbles towards our bathroom. The lava is bubbling again. The going-off-in-my-heart sensation. I reach out my arm towards him.

“Baz, wait!”

He whips around at me from the doorway with a scowl. “What the fuck is it, Snow?”

My hands falls along with my resolve. “How, how much do you remember from last night?”

Baz groans and rubs his forehead. “A lot of drinking, a lot of dancing, and more drinking. The rest is blurry. I remember your stupid face a bit. Why? Going to make fun of me, hm?”

"No! No, just... wondering.”

“Fine. Thanks for wasting my time.”

He slams the door hard enough to make the walls shake. I wince slightly. Nothing has changed for him. He doesn’t remember, but I can’t forget. I curl up in a ball on my bed and listen to the soft sound of the shower. It’s comforting in a way. Sounds kinda like rain. I focus on the water, instead of Baz last night. Baz’s smile, his laugh, his dancing, his babbling, his lips, his tongue-

I bang the side of my head. Stupid brain. Never listens to me! I chew at my nails. They’re stubs already but I don’t care. I need to focus on something else other than the conflicting emotions in my head. Because when I think about Baz, my heart stutters out of control, my palms get sweaty, and my head spins. I’ve always felt that around him, but I thought it was fear. That’s what it’s supposed to be, right? I’m supposed to be afraid of the son of my mentor’s enemy. I’m supposed to be _his_ enemy. All these things I’m feeling for Baz now, I’m supposed to feel for Agatha.

I’m getting tired of “supposed to”.

The water turns off. Baz steps out of the shower a few moments later. I peek over my shoulder. Crowley, he’s wearing nothing but a towel. Drops of water slide down his bare chest and stomach. He really did grow a lot this summer. He’s like a long, thin marble statue.

“Avert your eyes,” he growls.

I curl away, hiding the red on my face. I hear him shuffle around then walk back into the bathroom. He re emerges minutes later in a pair of red silk pyjamas. He collapses on his mattress with a loud groan. His back is to me as usual. Slowly, I sit cross legged on my bed, looking at my nails.

He groans again. “What is it? I can feel your stupid eyes on me.”

There goes my pounding heart again. “Um, well, the thing is, last night, you, uh-”

“Spit it out Snow!”

“You kissed me last night!”

Every muscle in Baz’s body freezes. I think he even stops breathing. The only sound is the wind blowing through the trees outside. When he speaks, it’s barely a whisper.

“What?”

I pick at my nails furiously. “A bunch of us were playing spin the bottle. And I- I guess you were _really_ pissed so you decided to join. Trixie spun and it landed on me. Then I spun and it landed on you. I wasn’t gonna do it, but then you grabbed me and... kissed me. Like, a lot...”

Baz shudders. I wish I could see his face. I’m too scared to reach out to him.

“Um, well, I dragged you back after. And you were drunkenly babbling and shit. You said... you said you didn’t actually hate me. That... you think I’m pretty, and you think you lo-”

“Stop!”

Baz’s voice is thunder in the small room. He bolts upright and whips around. His teeth are grinding together, face all scrunched up, eyes furious and maybe a bit scared. I can see tears building up, but he’s too stubborn to let them fall. I watch his hands clench and unclench the sheets. Slowly, he lets out a shaky breath.

“Stop, talking, you idiot.”

“But-”

“Not buts! I don’t want to hear about how I made a complete fool of myself. Don’t you see? This was exactly what I wanted to avoid!”

“I know-”

“Exactly! You know! Now you can go tell your precious Mage I’m a vampire _and_ a filthy pervert. Happy now?! You’ve got what you wanted, another thing to use against me! Just fucking kill me now like you’re supposed to! It’d be easier! You-”

“Baz, just shut up! I kissed you back, asshole!”

Baz freezes. Tears streak down his face. Grey eyes stare back at me with shock and awe. “What?”

I lay my head in my hands, just breathing slowly. “When you kissed me, I kissed back. Because it felt great. It felt fan-fucking-tastic! T-That’s all I could think about. No stupid Magickal world bullshit in my head for once. It was amazing.” I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. “A-And I’ve always thought I hated you cause that’s how I’m supposed to feel but I’m fucking sick of doing what I’m supposed to! I don’t want to do what everyone expects of me. I just want to do what _I_ want!”

I focus on the swimming colours behind my eyelids. I’m a total ball of nerves. Long fingers wrap around mine, slowly peeling them away from my eyes. Baz is kneeling in front of me. He looks soft, sympathetic. Like he understands what I’m saying. I guess he does.

“And what do you want, Simon?” he asks under his breath.

“I, I want to make my own descisions. I want to be normal for once. And...” I reach out towards his face. “I want to kiss you again.”

Baz grabs my outstretched hand. For a second I think he’s going to shove me away. Make fun of me, say it was all some plot to humiliate me. But instead, he laces our fingers together one by one, and presses them to his chest. I can feel his heart, beating just as wildly as mine.

“Yes,” he says.

My fingers clench. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, you can kiss me again.”

I let out a sigh of relief. We lean forward, eyes fluttering shut. And for the second time in my life, I’m kissing Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.

It’s not messy like last night. It’s chaste and awkward, like a kiss between two emotionally repressed fifteen year olds usually is. But he’s still cold and soft. He’s still Baz. He moves a hand to hold my neck. I hold his shoulder. Slowly, our lips start to move, a repeat of before, but more careful. Baz’s nails lightly scrape against my skin. This time, I push my tongue against his mouth. He gasps, but opens to me. For a boy so cold on the outside he’s warm within. I trace the inside of his cheek, digging my nails into his arm and moving even closer.

This seems to kick Baz into high gear. He shoves back with his whole mouth, tangling a thin hand in my hair. It feels like ten nuclear bombs in my brain mixed with drowning in happiness. I let go of his hands, wrapping both arms around his neck until we’re crushed together. And I know now that I want this, more than anything. To just be with Baz. To kiss him like we’re the only two people in the world. No prophecy, no war, no animosity. Just... this.

We break apart gasping. Baz’s eyes flutter open. He looks ragged and raw and gorgeous. I run my fingers up and down his spine as we breath.

“Wow,” he huffs out.

I chuckle. “Yeah...”

“Was it like that last night?”

“Pretty close. Except you were sloppy drunk.”

He groans and hangs his head. “Crowley, I will forever hate myself for not remembering that first kiss.”

I knock his chin up until our eyes meet, then tuck a piece of long black hair behind his pointed ear. “Don’t. I’ll just make sure you remember every one after”

With that, I pull Baz into another crushing, hopefully very memorable kiss.

* * *

 

After, we lay on my bed, side by side, breathless and smiling. Baz cups my face, running a thumb over my cheek. He pays special attention to the mole there. Every time he touches it he lingers. I move my fingers up and down his side. His silk pyjamas feel lovely. But I’m really more happy just to touch him.

“Part of me still can’t believe I just snogged you,” I whisper.

Baz chuckles. “ _You_ kissed _me_ , Snow.”

I chuckle too. He’s got a point. “I know. I guess I’m still wrapping my head around the idea that I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“So am I.” He stops running his thumb and clutches my jaw a bit tighter. “I-I thought there was something wrong with me. For wanting you. Thought it was just my fucked up psyche. Like desiring the sword that’s going to land in your chest.”

I clench the fabric of his top. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Baz. Absolutely nothing. You’re not evil or fucked up. You’re just... you. And I like you a lot.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Since when?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Awhile. I thought I hated you cause everyone said I should. Thought you were an evil monster. But I don’t and you’re not. Not really, I think. I mean, you’re smug and infuriating, but in a... cool way?”

“Eloquent as ever, Snow.” Usually I’d be mad at such a comment, but the way Baz rolls his eyes over dramatically and smirks tells me I don’t need to be. But I still poke his side, making him spasm a bit.

“Prat,” I mutter. “Whatever. Since when do _you_ like _me_? Or was pushing me down the stairs and unleashing a chimera your ways of flirting?”

Baz flicks my nose. I giggle. “I told you the stairs were an accident, you prick. And that chimera was just meant to freak you out a bit.” His face becomes serious. But in a sort of, worried and scared way. “Which... I’m sorry about. I was angry at myself and took it out on you. I’m not sure how long I’ve cared about you. I think for awhile. But I’ve only let myself acknowledge it recently. Fuck, part of me is still coming to terms with the fact that I’m gay.” His brow furrows together. “Are you gay?”

I shrug (I really do that a lot, don’t I?) “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe I am, at least partly, the part that seems to be demanding the most attention right now.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know. All I know is that I like this, I like you. I don’t give a shit about anything else.”

Baz pulls me closer, until his chin is resting on my head. I grip his shirt and inhale his scent. Cedar and bergamot. I never thought someone’s smell could be so comforting.

“There’s still a lot of shit to deal with, Simon,” he whispers.

He’s right. There’s his family, the brewing war, the Mage, the Humdrum, his vampirism (maybe I should ask him about that later), my explosive magic, everything. But right now I just want to hold him. Pretend nothing exists outside of his arms. That we’re merely two normal boys without grand destinies or blood feuds. That we can have this without problem.

“I know,” I mumble into his chest. “But we’ll figure it out, right?”

His cold lips kiss my hairline. I hold him tighter. “Yes, we will, Simon. We certainly will.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Bonus epilogue** :  
>  **Penny** : Where the hell did you go last night, Simon?! You left me alone you prick! Did you just have to sneak off to snog Agatha or something?  
>  **Simon** : ...about that...
> 
> So this is pretty much the "if Simon and Baz stopped being so emotionally repressed in fifth year" AU, lol. Well, this was fun to write. Mixing angst and fluff keeps fanfic writers sharp. Poor kids with their complicated feelings. Personally, as a soulless black hearted emo, I don't relate. But I tried to emulate the struggle as best as possible. Hope y'all liked it! :D
> 
> Request more kiss fics [here](https://bazypitchandsimonsnow.tumblr.com/post/163965447268/askfic-kiss-meme)


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